Only the Faithful

by Tilthanial

They held the line when the hordes came. They held the line when the gods came. They held the line when the Worldbreaker came. Now they hold the line against a threat they have never imagined. And they will hold the line. For they are Cadians, and they are faithful.

8. They Never Saw It Coming

Author's Notes: A wild update appears! Okay guys, full honesty, I would not expect much/many updates going forwards. I still have several chapters I can spit out, but to be completely honest I stopped updating this story because the neckbeardiness in the reviewers just turned me off from writing. I know it isn't everybody, but I, like every author on this site, write for my own enjoyment. If I put something up for viewing and get hosed by a bunch of morons complaining about the physics of magic, or insisting my lore is wrong because it doesn't match their lore, it just makes me uninterested in continuing. So congrats, Those Guys.

Normally I try and reply to every reviewer, but it's been a while so the review had piled up. Will only be touching on the ones that are interactive (i.e. not the please update reviews). But I did read them all, I promise.

Reviewers:

Tom2011 - I assume you mean Cerberus? Why would I ever want to give Cerberus lasguns they can then use in ME3?
Blaze501st - Kelly vs Kane. Such an unfair matchup.
Azrael-von-Gruber - The problem is 90% of my stories start as one-shots, then turn into long epics that take years to finish. I have had to teach myself that I can't do short stories anymore.
SPARTAN-626 - There certainly won't be whole battalions of soldiers with lasguns by the time the Reapers arrive, but there will be some new fancy tech available.
ManwithaPlain113 - If the Alliance switches from Marines to Guardsmen, wouldn't that just multiply their casualty rates. Though, once the Reapers show up it'll be a wash anyways.
SomeGuyOverHere - Zaeed will 100% be the guy who shrugs off everything. After all, the only thing he cares about is Jessie, and whether he can kill whatever he points Jessie at. As for the Blank bit, I am toying with the idea that only humans notice the effect of them, because only humans are psychically latent in the current setting. But maybe I will just leave it at he is a Blank asshole. Lol
A Random Friend - Sometimes the little steps make the loudest echo. I was initially going to have him hand it over later, but it makes sense, timeline-wise, to do it early.
Edboy4926 - Oh, you, things.
Disciple of Ember - Bioware likes doing that with female goons. They set up Jentha to be really cool, and then it's just "BLAM." Kind of like Ser Cauthrien in Dragon Age Origin.
ErnestShippinglane89 - I am torn on that one. On the one hand, it is canon. On the other hand, ME3's ending was just mediocre. By the time I get there I feel like I will have an acceptable solution.
Carre - There will be more lore snippers and some 40k silliness, but I am trying to avoid falling in the trap of 'here's how cool my favorite universe is' that a lot of crossover writers do.
Kaioo - Numbers of dreadnoughts, not fleet sizes. Humanity got around the dreadnought restrictions by making huge fleets, but Asari have the most dreadnoughts, followed by the Turians.
S058 - Everyone ships Miranda and Kane. Probably because they make the perfect Tsundere couple.
Raiju001 - They certainly won't be replicating Astartes armor. But they will be able to make weaker imitations of lots of it.
RhysThornbery - Entirely acceptable reaction. I am intentionally aiming for gritty over fun, for now. It may lighten up in time, but I personally prefer grittier stories, so that's how I end up writing most of the time.
Gilgamesh King of Mongols - You mean for a highly educated, immaculately trained Kasrkin who was raised in one of the best Scholas in the galaxy and has been deployed to numerous conflicts across many systems and interacted with Inquisitors, high-ranking officers, and Astartes while performing his duties?
Negronomicon - Kane and Blake are the important characters of the story. This is a major writer's mistake (especially to admit) but Brunson only existed at first to give Kane a foil. He will get more screen time later on.
AndreiSRL - Quick synopsis of story: Reapers lose.
DeepCFisher *ReviewoftheDay* - my anime waifu. OKAY. Heaven forbid that a Cadian-bred commissar, who was raised in an exacting Schola by masterful warriors and religious fanatics (just like every Cadian Schola child) can be a badass.

---

Citadel Space, aboard the Normandy SR-2

Kane stood in the cockpit alongside Shepard, watching the space station known as the "Citadel" grew closer. It was colossal, far larger than anything he had seen in the Imperial fleets. A Battle Cruiser could have flown lengthwise through the central ring without touching either side. Five long arms, each more than seven times the length of the proudest Imperial ship of the line, jutted in a seemingly endless display. To hold such massive wings in place required a structural soundness that… well, he couldn't even understand how that worked. It was an engineering marvel that surpassed even the feats of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Despite his amazement, his mind leapt straight to the obvious question. If the Citadel was so large and solid, what kind of disaster had destroyed it? What kind of firepower could bring such a station to ruin? Had the God-Emperor himself come down and rained destruction on this station at some point in the future?

The wonders of this early age could not cease to amaze him even as they horrified him. He studied the station as they approached, hands clasped behind his back. Shepard droned through a briefing of the station, the layout and inhabitants, and most importantly the concept of the Citadel Council. Three xenos and a human, deciding the fate of the galaxy. It was so heavily unbalanced that he grit his teeth in frustration. He had heard the details from Shepard before, about how the Spectres answered to the Council and served the galactic community as a whole. But it riled his nerves to hear it again.

Shepard served xenos. Kane had likened the position of a Spectre to that of a Rogue Trader or Inquisitor, operating carte blanche under the God-Emperor's seal. That was an idea he had liked, drawn a little hope in perhaps. But this was entirely different. To hear that they were little more the Council's wetworkers infuriated him. Only a great deal of persuasion by Shepard had soothed that rage. The knowledge that Shepard operated mostly on his own and had the freedom to follow his own path for the most part was reassuring. But what if the Council stepped in and gave Shepard an order. When asked about it, Shepard had chuckled softly and replied that it depended on the order.

"Once we dock I'll want to check on a few things," Shepard told Kane. "Then we can go on to talk to Udina. I think it might do you some good to speak to the human Council representative. At the least it will make things easier to manage."

"What things," Kane asked, his tone carefully neutral. He had a feeling he already knew.

"I have decided I will tell the Council about you and your companions," Shepard said. The Commander looked back over his shoulder. "It needs to happen at some point. We're already here, so I thought it would be a good time."

"You want to bring me into a room with three of the most influential xenos in the galaxy. The xenos leaders of the galaxy." Kane could not hide his amazement at Shepard's boldness.

"If you think you might try and shoot them we can always video conference the meeting," the commander joked. Then his expression grew more serious. "The Council leaders have no direct influence over their races. They are merely the ambassador, so to speak. They have a lot of weight, but turian matters are decided by the turian government."

"I figured as much. And I wasn't planning on shooting anyone either," Kane growled. "I was more thinking of how I'll have to play nice with the xenos bigwigs."

"Do or don't, I don't care. Just don't do something we'll all regret."

"I swear to the Throne, I will never understand your eagerness to trust." The Kasrkin shook his head. Reaching up to his chin, he stroked the short fuzz of stubble that had accumulated. He had always kept his face clean-shaved when possible in the past. It wasn't always a viable option in the field, but when off the firing line he had a strong habit of remaining clean in case some official or another stopped by. He had been brought into the presence of enough dignitaries to appreciate the appearance of finely groomed soldiers. The habit had slipped here somewhat. And two days of beard growth left his jaw heavily shaded.

"What can I say? I see the good in people." Shepard stepped down from the command pedestal and gestured to his beard. Evidently they had the same thoughts on the matter. "You can wear your armor if you want, but I'd suggest losing the fuzz if you aren't attached to it. I think the Council members have something against facial hair."

"Weapons?"

"Just a sidearm, if you please. And probably not a sword."

"Good enough for me. I don't have my dress uniform, so armor will do. Helmet?"

"You can bring it, but I'd prefer to see your face when we talk to them."

"Who all is coming with?"

"Just you and me," Shepard told him. "The others have work to do."

"Ah."

Retreating from the bridge, Kane made his way down the stairs towards the engineering floor where his quarters lay. He paused by the XO's suite, eyes resting on the orange rune that covered the door panel. He hadn't spoken to Officer Lawson since Omega. Since coming back to the Normandy their paths had not crossed almost to the point where he wondered if she had taken to avoiding him. And he had made no effort to seek her out. Their… relationship if he wanted to call it that, gave him pause whenever he considered it.

The woman had a deep dislike of him. She did not seem to share the same disapproval to Trooper Brunson, but then again Trooper Brunson was bending over backwards to adapt to the Normandy's crew. And she did not deal much with him. But she and Kane had butted heads every time they met. Apart from that little snatch of pleasantry that passed between them after signing up for the Archangel attack, they had gotten along poorly at best.

Kane knew he was going to be tested in dealing with these xenos allies that Shepard gathered. He needed as many allies as he could get. The reticent executive officer had to be one of those. Whatever happened with this mission, they needed to play nice. And it was as much up to her as it was to him. Someone had to take the first step.

He strode up to her door, thoughts running through the various things he could say to her. This sort of thing did not come easily to him. The majority of the communication he made came in the form of orders, commands, responses and brief conversations usually relating to military matters. The idea of trying to befriend someone bewildered him. How did a man go about making friends? Kane bore no shame in admitting he had never truly had a 'friend' before. His entire life had been filled with comrades and teammates, but never friends. How should he go about handling this?

The bitter irony that he had faced down Traitor Astartes but stood uncertain in front of a female's door brought bile to his throat. He much preferred the idea of kicking down the door than knocking politely and waiting for her to respond. Doubts rose in his mind and he considered walking away. He needed to be ready for this conversation. He needed to prepare for it. If he tried talking to her now he would only trip over his words and make the situation worse.

Before he could come to a decision the door opened and Officer Lawson appeared before him. Her eyebrows shot up, the only indication of her surprise, and she took a step back. She looked to his hand, still posed over the door panel.

"Do you need something, Sergeant Kane?"

"What? No, I was just… thought I'd see how you were…"

His traitorous tongue clung to his teeth and he gave up after a few moments of fumbling with his words. Biting back a curse, he let his words trail off and turned to leave. Officer Lawson said his name, stopping him cold. A little shiver of uncertainty crept up his spine. This was uncharted territory for him.

"Sergeant Kane," the executive officer repeated. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing's the matter." He turned back towards her and looked her in the eye. There was no anger resting there. Genuine concern flitted about the shadows of her irises. She hid it well, but Kane could see it.

"You were standing outside my door about to knock. I'd say that isn't nothing."

"Well then," he growled, that familiar surge of anger rising in his chest, "if you're so smart why don't you tell me why I was standing out here?"

Officer Lawson's mouth tightened in frown. She took a little breath to stall for time before tilting her head into the room. It was about as grand an invitation as he would have expected. Following her back inside, he stood before her desk and waited as Officer Lawson paced around to stand on the opposite side. She motioned towards the chair beside him.

"Please, sit."

He did, hands tightening into fists on his knees as he did not know where else to put them. His eyes drifted across her desk, mind occupied in the words of a Cadian hymn. The hymns calmed him. They reminded him of the days of fasting he had undergone in the Schola. The Sister that had overseen his class in that period of training went by the name Olivia. She had been a strict disciplinarian, always quick to punish infractions and more than eager to drag the whole class out of their beds at night for some vigil or trial. He had learned much about his faith in those days. The hymns kept that knowledge close to his heart.

"I know how hard this is for you," she said, a touch of edge in her voice. "Commander Shepard has kept me in the loop."

"I figured as much, seeing as how he sent Miss Chambers to come have a shrink-talk with me."

"You gave her a hard time." Her eyebrows arched delicately. "You do realize she only wanted to help."

"I don't need that kind of help," Kane grumbled. "Never have."

"Are you referring to the help of a psychologist, or of a woman?"

There was no immediate accusation in her tone, but Kane understood the unsaid meaning of her question. He did not bristle like he expected to though. Instead he felt nothing but the soothing calm of the hymns floating through his mind. Giving the officer an unfriendly smile, he bared his teeth and lifted his head back to look at the ceiling.

"Back in the Guard, we didn't have psychologists assigned to units. We had morale officers, Commissars. The only people that cared about what was going on in your mind were the men in your squad. If something was wrong with you, your squad would sort you out and get you back on track. If you were lucky and caught the good eye of a superior further up, sometimes they'd look out for you. But you never, ever went to talk to some civilian shrink. Know why? Because they had no idea what it was we went through. No one understands a soldier except another soldier. Why send a sheltered and educated civilian to ask a battle-hardened killer about his state of mind?"

She did not reply immediately. Her face grew contemplative and she twined her fingers together before her face. Kane let her think. A few days ago he might have pressed his point, but he had a gut feeling that she understood what had been said and needed no more. Progress, he thought to himself. A couple minutes into this conversation and they weren't at each other's throats yet.

"What are your thoughts," Kane asked her. She tipped her head just slightly in his direction.

"On you, or your situation?"

"Either." He huffed. "Whatever sails your ship."

"I can do that." She let her hands fall to the desk and she cleared her throat. "I still don't know what to make of you, Sergeant Kane. We've seen you fight now and I believe I have a good sense for your foundations, such as they are. Ordinarily that would be enough for me to deliver a verdict on you. But not this time. You are… a mystery to me. Mysteries make me nervous."

"Nervous?" He chuckled at the thought.

"Perhaps wary would be a more accurate description. You escalate situations."

"That's one way to put it."

Her lips pressed firmly together, no doubt biting back her reply. "The polite way. As for your situation, I cannot speak to that. I can only say that you could be a great asset to our mission, if you choose to throw in with Shepard, that is."

"He didn't tell you?" Kane allowed his surprise to come through.

"Apparently not" she muttered, frustration showing on her face. Being one-upped did not agree with her. A slight tingle settled on the back of his neck. Kane did not know what it meant, but he lifted a hand to placate the officer.

"I am accompanying him to meet with your Citadel Council."

Officer Lawson nodded thoughtfully. "Then that conversation went more smoothly than I thought it would. Congratulations on joining the team, Sergeant."

"You actually sound somewhat thrilled at the prospect, Madam Lawson."

Something akin to a smile lifted one corner of her mouth. It vanished after a moment, swallowed by her ever-present grimace. "I believe we can find some use for you yet, Sergeant Kane. But only if you desist from referring to me by that title ever again. I'm not some old maid."

"Never said you were, Ma… Officer Lawson. Just a term of respect is all."

"You do not need to be so formal. Miranda will do."

Miranda rose from her seat and motioned towards the door. She did not approach it all the way, but stopped beside the interior panel. Kane got up and waited for her to continue.

"Shepard is taking you to speak to the Council, is he?"

"He is."

"Take care of what you say before them. They are much less forgiving than Shepard, and will treat everything you say with extreme skepticism. More than likely they will assume you are a liar and seek some way for you to prove your words. Then they will dismiss it all as conjecture or theatrics."

"So you're saying we can't win."

Her eyes flashed mischievously. "I wasn't aware there was anything to win."

"Judging by Shepard's mission, there's a whole galaxy to win." Kane cracked his neck, noting gratefully that the little motion only caused a dull throbbing this time.

"And this little meeting will decide the fate of the galaxy?"

He appreciated that she bore no ill will in the question. The officer meant it with utter sincerity. And that made him stop and consider his own statement. What would the ramifications of this meeting be? How would the galaxy respond to the idea of the Imperium of Man, the pro-humanist system where aliens were the enemy and only the lives of man had value? That would not go over well, he knew that much. He wasn't going to smooth over the details though. That would be a disservice to the God-Emperor and he had soiled his soul enough. Honesty would be his ally here.

The question that remained, of course, was how to go about convincing them that his words were true. Shepard would send the lasgun schematics out, but would that be enough? He drew his thoughts back to the meetings he had attended with Imperial nobles or high-ranking officials. What had it taken to convince them to throw in their support? Unequivocal facts. And he did not have those. He had nothing that would overpower their doubts.

Or did he? His hand brushed against the dataslate secured in his cargo pocket. The information on the dataslate was far more than a Kasrkin had any right to possess. They had salvaged it off of a Mechanicus facility in the retreat to Line Blue, and had been tasked by that crazed adept bastard with ensuring it went to the right hands. Mechanicus' hands had been its intention. He did not feel comfortable handing out schematics to xenos, but there was more than schematics there. Histories, prose, documentation. He could use some of that to reinforce his claim. He would just have to be careful with what he revealed.

"No," he muttered, more for his own benefit than hers. "I don't think this will decide anything except for how much misery Shepard is going to have to put up with because of us. This Council, if they are like any other politicians I have seen, will want control. You know more about them than I do. What are the chances they will try and demand Shepard turning us over."

"Likely, but Shepard won't." Miranda opened the door to her suite. They stepped out together. "He sticks with his crew."

"Like a good commander should," Kane agreed.

They hesitated just outside her door, neither one knowing what to say. Kane patted her gingerly on the arm, uncertain if such a thing was appropriate, but when she did not shy away he nodded and strode off in the direction of the elevator. Before they landed he wanted a few minutes to himself to begin perusing whatever library his dataslate held. Perhaps he could find something of use to persuade the Council to the veracity of his words.

His fingers danced across the controls of the dataslate. This one lacked some of the finer touches of his old Kasrkin-issued equipment, but he discovered happily that Captain Toten had taken the liberty of installing a full collection of Imperial primers, catechisms, hymns and suggested readings. In addition, he appeared to have donated copies of his own personal collection of acquired literature. Something here would give them what he needed.

Shepard studied the message on his terminal. He read it again, just to be sure. It was brief, to the point, and not entirely useful. More of an 'acknowledged' message than anything. At least he received that much though. Or maybe this was Admiral Hackett's way of reminding Shepard that not every leader in the galaxy wanted to forget about Sovereign and the Reaper threat.

Re: Unusual Findings

Subj: Commander Shepard, J.

What exactly am I looking at here? The schematics you delivered are unlike any weapons technology we have ever seen. Where did you find this? Is this theory, prototype, or in-the-field? Do the Collectors possess these weapons?

I know it seems like I am ungrateful for the information with all of these questions. We are certainly appreciative of the schematics; the scale of this technology is so beyond our current research that I cannot help but ask questions. What went unsaid in your message reminds me of your warnings about the Reapers. If this is what we are up against, then Lord help us, because the amount of firepower in these files is terrifying.

Turning this data in gives the Alliance a tremendous leap forward in weapons technology. I have already notified several of our top researchers to prepare to be pulled from their work to focus on unlocking this technology for our own use. With luck we will be able to create our own variants of this technology within a year. You have already done the hard part for us, and I speak for the whole of the Alliance when I thank you.

Were it not for the knowledge of what may be coming I would have been disappointed in your delivery of the technology to the turians. Many would question the wisdom of giving this powerful a technology to the Hierarchy, but I trust you thought it through. Whatever your reasoning is, I know to trust it.

It appears the Terminus Systems are an area we need to put more eyes on in the future. I will bring this to the attention of the other Admirals for a council to see how we should proceed.

There are some who continue to doubt your loyalty in the wake of this news regarding your work with Cerberus. Delivering this data will go a long way to assuaging those doubts. Godspeed in your hunt.

Respectfully,

Adm. Hackett, S.

Commanding Officer, Alliance Navy

Shepard's gaze drifted to the small file tagged at the end of the message. He opened it without hesitation, curious to see what lay inside. Admiral Hackett had added more, something he did not want to risk being seen by others. The file had Shepard's unique N7 encryption sealing it. The Prime Minister of the Systems Alliance couldn't have opened it without Shepard's aid. That meant it was serious.

Addt: Though the Alliance cannot officially take action to support the threat of a Reaper invasion, we have begun construction on additional dreadnoughts exceeding that allowed by the Treaty of Faraxin. While we cannot launch them from their shipping yards when completed, they will be ready when the time comes. I am sorry we cannot do more.

It is enough, Shepard thought to himself. As long as mankind girded itself for the war to come. They could not afford to rely on the Council's eagerness for complacency and peace to wish the threat away. And if they could get the laser technology working there was no end to the possibilities before them. What if the Alliance found a way to scale the technology to naval size? Dreadnoughts with laser cannons, that would be a sight.

The door to his cabin opened and Yeoman Chambers stepped inside.

"John." Kelly approached him from the doorway, her eyes intentionally averted from the screen to show she was not peeking. Closing the message, he motioned for her to come closer.

"What is it, Kelly?"

"Joker says we are preparing to dock. I thought you should know."

"Thanks." He offered her a smile. She returned it cheerfully, her beautiful face lighting up his cabin like the dawning sun. "But that can't be the only reason you came up here."

"Do you want there to be another reason," she asked coyly. After a second of playfully batting her eyelashes she straightened and held out her datapad. Shepard tapped his to hers, downloading the information she had for him. "Leon brought this forward on his own initiative. They have their own form of data carriers, and he thought it might be helpful to show it to the Council. This is what EDI took from a quick scan of it."

"Could be," he muttered to himself as he studied the information she had. It looked like memory drive specifications. The numbers were astronomical. He could have fit the entirety of the Normandy's systems on that data carrier. Startled, he glanced up at her. "This is his datapad?"

"Dataslate, he calls it" she corrected. "EDI is still decrypting the system for compatibility."

"Still deciphering?" Shepard frowned. "How long will it take her?"

"Longer than we all thought it would, apparently. She claims to be devoting a significant portion of her operating code to the process."

"It shouldn't have taken her more than a few seconds."

Kelly shrugged helplessly. "I guess she has to adjust before she can work on it."

"That is correct, Yeoman Chambers" EDI announced unexpectedly. "The technology held within Sergeant Kane's dataslate is quite advanced for such a simple tool. It took my code-breaking software a total of thirty two minutes eighteen seconds to decipher the principles behind the software, then an additional fourteen minutes fifty three seconds to learn the programming language. I have also dedicated a portion of my core programming capabilities to studying these encryptions for reapplication to my own cyberwarfare suite."

"Do you have it down now, EDI?" Shepard motioned to the projector on his desk and the spherical representation of EDI rose for viewing. It was unnecessary but he preferred having something to look at when he spoke to the AI. "Have you accessed the materials on the dataslate?"

"I have begun to, and the wealth of information Sergeant Kane has provided us is… impressive."

The fact that their AI took the time to code a synthesized element of surprise into her voice gave Shepard pause. EDI had a talent for understatement. Whatever was on that dataslate must be earth-shattering.

"What is on it?"

"Everything, Commander Shepard. Religious texts, military studies, biographical documents, philosophical literature, technological schematics. I believe I have even discovered what appears to be a play script that draws its roots from William Shakespeare."

"Shakespeare in the fortieth millennium?" Shepard whistled. He looked over at Kelly and smiled. "I think that puts a stamp on the argument of who is the greatest playwright of all time."

"That is incredible" the Yeoman whispered, her voice hushed with awe. "I hope I can get my hands on some of these works. Does he have any information on the aliens of their time, EDI?"

The AI remained silent for a brief moment. "There are various documents that reference the aliens, or xenos as they are called, in his time. I am unsure as to the veracity of their records however. Sergeant Kane has assured me that any Imperial writings regarding aliens are to be studied with skepticism."

"Why is that?"

"Because most are bullshit," Kane said, answering for the AI. Shepard turned on his heel, surprised to see the man standing in the open doorway. Neither he nor Kelly had noticed the man's entrance. Glowering slightly, Kane strode in and stared into the empty fish tank. He looked at the tank in wonder before turning back to Shepard. "Sorry for interrupting. Miranda's asking for you down below."

"You two are on a first name basis now," Shepard observed. He nodded to show his approval. "I will be right down."

Kane nodded. His gaze cut over to Kelly and he gave a slight shake of his head.

"Miss Chambers, Kelly," he struggled with her name as if unused to being so informal. "In case you haven't noticed by now, the Imperium of Man has no room for xenos. Generally speaking, anything written about xenos is filtered through numerous sources. The only things allowed to be said about xenos to the masses are bad things and make-believe bad things."

"Why is that" she asked, puzzlement showing on her face.

"Because it is much easier to recruit soldiers when people believe every xenos out there wants to skin them alive and eat their flesh raw." He huffed and rolled his shoulders. "In that order. There are probably a few classified documents on my dataslate that have some accurate depictions of the xenos. Sometime I will sit down and read through them, see which is which if you'd like. Though I doubt you'd have much use for it besides wistful conjecture. I can tell you right now, the only xenos race I would ever feel comfortable fighting alongside is the Eldar. And even then I'd prefer to shoot them and go at the enemy alone."

"Eldar?"

"Long lives, advanced technology, arrogant bastards all around." He cracked his knuckles. "A bit flimsy, but they're wicked smart, agile like monkeys, and very good at their jobs. Problem is, they tend to be extremely focused on one thing at a time. Their shooters are crap in close combat. Their melee soldiers are worthless at range. Etcetera. They're more of a nuisance than anything. Hardly a threat to the Imperium at large. Theory is their race is going extinct because of some shit they did long ago."

"Oh." The Yeoman's face fell a little. "That's sad."

They moved out of his cabin and to the elevator. The personnel elevator had been designed to carry six at a time, but it still felt crowded with three. Kane's massive frame only made it feel more so. The sergeant stood against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, paying little attention to either of them. He was affecting an air of nonchalance in the face of Kelly's curiosity, but Shepard could see the anger that sparked in his eyes at her pitying the Eldar race. Something told Shepard that Kane had some bad history with Eldar.

Kelly stood between them, just in front of Kane but not too close either. She looked back once to the sergeant and smiled, but when he did not return the gesture she resumed staring at the door. A thoughtful look came on her face as she waited for the elevator to open.

"That is something odd I've noticed," he announced suddenly. Kelly jerked a little, unable to hide the way his gruff voice startled her. They both turned to listen. "I haven't seen a single mention of Eldar in your time. Or Orks. Or any of the other xenos that should be here."

"Orcs?" Kelly could not suppress her giggle. It died quickly when Kane fixed his stone-cold gaze on her. "You can't be serious."

"If you knew what an Ork was, you wouldn't be laughing."

"Must be a different kind," Shepard said, butting in before Kelly said something that offended the man. "The stories we have of orcs painted them as humanoids that aren't too bright but pretty strong. They only exist in fairy tales though. Fairy tales and legends."

"Different kind," Kane agreed. "Ours are huge lumbering monstrosities with the hardiness of tanks. They're dumber than rocks for the most part, but they're hard as sin to kill and utterly fearless. They always come in endless hordes too. That's a bitch to stop."

The elevator doors opened, forestalling further conversation. Most of the team had assembled on the command deck. When all eyes turned to Shepard he stepped out and spoke to each member of the ship in turn. A couple requested errands, Trooper Goldstein wanted permission to visit family, Jacob and Miranda wanted to track down a particular old contact of theirs to check up on something. When the press settled he motioned for Kane to come along.

"Time to go meet the Council," he told the sergeant. Kane said nothing as they stepped out of the Normandy's hatch and into the docking tunnel. This was going to be interesting.

-v-

Zakera Ward, Citadel

His first impression of the Citadel came as they exited the Normandy and climbed into an automated taxi car that stood waiting. The car lifted off the ground with a quiet hum, moving so smoothly that he gripped his seat with white-knuckled fingers. Hover technology. The sensation brought a thrill of exhilaration as the taxi rose up to slide into an orderly stream of other hover cars that flew away from the docking bays. He glanced out nervously, afraid to lean over the side in case his weight would unbalance the vehicle and send them plunging to their deaths. The Citadel was so incredibly massive he found himself nearly trembling with dread. The docking bays lay at the highest points of the Citadel arms. Not the farthest, but the highest. The main floor of the Citadel appeared far below them, growing closer with each passing second after the taxi tilted downwards and began a steep but controlled descent.

They had to be twenty stories above ground floor, and he did not doubt that many more stories lay underneath the primary layer. This was like a hive city, but in space. It was wonderful, alien, terrifying. He liked it. Everywhere he looked he saw hover vehicles flashing past. They all moved in orderly lanes, the only occasional deviants being marked with a blue-and-silver pattern he assumed represented their judiciary forces. Here and there they passed spacefaring vessels of different sizes. Some dwarfed the Normandy and bristled with weapons; those would be the warships. Others were the same size or smaller, some round and bloated like a desiccated corpse, others thin and needle-like. He found he could point out the human-built ships easily enough. They were built to be angular and long. The Normandy appeared to be the exception to blocky human engineering, but even so he could see the resemblance as they passed under a larger ship that proudly bore the name SSV Orizaba. It had not physically docked to the Citadel, but floated in space close enough for a trawler to ferry crew on board. He pointed it out to Shepard.

"That's…" the Commander's voice trailed off for a moment. The only visible sign of his surprise came in the form of a slight widening of his eyes and the pause between his speech. "The Orizaba is one of our dreadnoughts."

"It's small," Kane muttered. Shepard made a noise in his throat that sounded like disapproval. "What?"

"That's a full kilometer long."

"About the size of our patrol frigates," Kane shot back. He hastily apologized when he saw the irritation in the Commander's expression. "I'm not demeaning your navy. We have the advantage of thousands of years of engineering and technology. Just making the observation."

"You wouldn't happen to know how to build one of your enormous ships, would you," Shepard joked, all traces of irritation fading.

"Not a clue. You'll have to hope for another Warp miracle to give us an Imperial ship," Kane said. He realized a moment later he had actually chuckled at the idea. That got him wondering, what were the odds that this sort of thing could happen again? What if more Imperials came through, or xenos? Could this galaxy stand against the sudden appearance of Orks? The mirth drizzled away and he grimaced. Throne, he wished this could all be matter-of-fact. Dealing with hypotheticals made him nervous.

"My mother captains the Orizaba," Shepard told him. Kane turned his head to look back at the shrinking vessel.

"Your mother? I didn't know you were from a noble family."

"What?"

"Oh, it's… never mind. In my time ship officers often come from nobility. Most ship captains descend from long lineages of ship captains and powerful rulers. I take it your time does not hold the same classism?"

"Not so much." Shepard shook his head. "My mother started out as an ensign, just like every Alliance naval officer. She worked her way up the ranks to get where she is now. We've had family in the military for a long time, but there is nothing elite about my family's history in the military. I got to be where I was through blood, sweat, and tears, just like everyone else."

"I understand. That's somewhat of a relief, actually." Kane relaxed in his seat. The chairs in the taxi were rather luxurious. "A lot of Imperial naval officers are pompous windbags with a greater sense of entitlement than tactics."

"We still have our own pompous windbags."

"A shared trait of humanity."

The taxi drew up to its destination. Kane studied the sign beside the embarkation platform. Zakera Ward. Level 27.

"This isn't the… Presidium?" He glanced over to Shepard to confirm he used the right word. Shepard nodded.

"Do you remember that crew member we are looking for here on the Citadel?"

"I believe I've heard mention of it, yes."

Shepard led the way getting off the taxi. Kane climbed out with care, marveling at the stability of the taxi as it hovered just centimeters off the ground without the slightest tipping as the weight shifted off the vehicle.

"I received the coordinates and time for our meeting. She wants to meet now."

"She?" Kane could not hold back his curiosity. He wondered what this newcomer would bring to Shepard's circus.

"Kasumi Goto," Shepard explained. "She's a thief."

"Ah." The Kasrkin frowned. He stared at Shepard, trying to understand what he was missing. Why would they need a thief? Was Shepard planning to steal a ship away from the Collectors? "I don't get it."

"She is supposed to be at the top of her field," Shepard explained. "An expert in hacking, entering, subterfuge, and all that. She'll turn over any security system like it was a child lock."

"I can see how that would be useful," Kane admitted. He watched Shepard check something on his omnitool. "What's the matter?"

"We are supposed to meet right here," Shepard explained. He gestured for Kane to look around. There were humans and xenos about, mostly crowded around what look like an information kiosk or approaching a scanning field to enter further into the Citadel. A pair of turian guards stood by the doors, their assault rifles out but held in casual grips. They were not expecting trouble.

"Any idea what she looks like?"

"No. Top of the field," Shepard reminded the Kasrkin. "I don't think many people know what she looks like."

"Wonderful." He let his hands fall and clasped them behind his back. If he had his helmet he could scan the area for clues, but he had left it behind on the Normandy. Same with his auspex. That device might have drawn unwanted attention.

Shepard stood still for a moment before motioning for Kane to follow him away from the terminal. They moved a few feet away and stood beside a cylindrical device that shimmered when Shepard drew close to it. Something akin to a screen formed across the device and a hooded face appeared. The appearance of the figure sent Kane reaching for his laspistol, but Shepard showed no concern.

"Commander Shepard. Enter the password and receive a free gift!"

The unexpected addressing of Shepard made Kane's skin crawl. The insistent feeling that someone unseen lurker had eyes on them crept across the back of his spine. He forced his hand to draw away from his laspistol but he began to turn a cautious circle, scanning their surroundings for signs of a watcher. Nothing immediate leapt to his attention.

"She's taken over an advertisement board," Shepard explained.

"You did say she would be a hacker," Kane replied out of the corner of his mouth. He did not like the idea of being watched.

"Got problems with Collectors? Try Kasumi's credit services," the hooded figure teased.

Commander Shepard took a deep breath before stepping up to the advertisement.

A smile formed on the figure's mouth. Kane satisfied himself with studying what he could of their contact. It was a female with sharp facial structure and a strip of purple tattoo splitting her lower lip and chin. Her voice was light and youthful. Energy bubbled out from under her words like a tide over a broken dam. The hood shadowed the top half of her face but he could see pinpricks of light reflecting off of her eyes.

"Please tell me your password, Commander Shepard."

"Silence is golden" he replied.

Kane took a step back as Shepard began to speak to the woman running the advertisement. That nagging voice in his head told him that this woman must be close. While the Commander discussed whatever it was they were discussing he let his attention wander through the platform again. Nothing. Frustrated, he absently followed a pipe's progress up one of the walls until he spotted what looked like a service catwalk hanging several meters overhead. He traced its path until he turned back to look over the advertisement. There. He could barely see the shadowy figure standing not too far overhead. But there she was.

"Shepard," he grunted, stealing the Commander's attention. He gestured to the thief above them.

"Clever boy," Kasumi's voice said over the advertisement. Her face disappeared from the screen, replaced by a fuzz of gray, and she took a step out of the shadows on the catwalk. Giving a little mockery of a bow, she addressed them directly.

"We should probably wrap this up," she called down, her voice edged with mirth. "You look pretty silly talking to an advertisement. See you on the ship, Shepard."

Before Shepard could stop her she turned on her heel and disappeared out of sight. Literally disappeared. Kane held in his gasp of surprise as her body vanished in a wave of light. One moment she was there, the next she wasn't.

"Tactical cloak," Shepard told him. "Refracts light waves to make the wearer nearly invisible."

"Definitely something a thief would want" Kane muttered. He shook his head in amazement. "I assume you just ironed out her contract? I was busy looking for her."

"Yes, she is good to go. And speaking of that…" Shepard motioned towards the security scanner. "Let's go. The Council will be ready by the time we reach the Presidium."

"Ready?" Kane laughed darkly. "I don't think any of those xenos are ready for meeting me."

Shepard stood before the Council, Kane at one side and Udina at the other. As much as Shepard disliked the man for his political machinations and treacherous schemes, he appreciated that Udina stood beside him. It was a show of unity. Right now he needed that. They had time to give Udina a very brief introduction to Kane and the reality of the situation. But the Council had come together and they did not have the time to be left waiting. So together they walked into the Council chambers with Udina brimming with questions. Hopefully he would remain Shepard's ally in this talk.

The alien Council members watched them in silence, their various postures representing their thoughts without the need for asking. Sparatus, the crusty old turian politician so quick to dismiss all things Reaper-related, glowered at them with undisguised irritation. Considering how they verbally sparred every time Shepard came before the Council, he could understand the turian's attitude. Having to sit through another one of Shepard's talks about the Reapers must have been as painful as pulling teeth with a clamp. That was one Council member he would never consider an ally.

Councilor Tevos, on the other hand, showed nothing but guarded curiosity as her eyes crawled across Sergeant Kane's frame. She held one hand over her jaw, fingers half-curled in a loose fist and arm supported by her other hand, in a pensive mood. As always, she appeared utterly enigmatic at the onset. Her thoughts and motives would slowly but surely reveal themselves over time. For now she offered nothing but the twitch of her thumb as she brushed her upper lip. That meant she was already in deep thought, considering possibilities. Not exactly an ally, but the most honest of the three. It was Councilor Tevos who was first to admit that their spectacular lack of pursuit of the Reaper threat stemmed from their desire to avoid undue upset within the galactic community. From a skeptic's perspective, that entirely made sense. Knowledge of a threat of galactic scale could cause widespread panic, unregulated buildups of militaries, and total economic anarchy. That wasn't a good thing for the Council to propagate. Then again, neither was lulling the galaxy into a false sense of security in the face of impending destruction.

The last of the alien Councilors had always struck him as the least trustworthy. Sparatus was vocal in his objections, Tevos admitted her bias, but Valern was a snake. And that had nothing to do with his being a salarian. It was a commonly-known secret that Councilor Valern kowtowed to the Dalatrass of the Salarian Union. He was utterly untrustworthy and the only thing Shepard could expect from him would be stalling tactics. The Councilor's final decision could never be known until he had consulted with his Dalatrass.

Faced with such a hostile crowd, Shepard found himself wondering why he bothered. They didn't care, wouldn't care about the facts. It did not matter what he brought before them. They were firmly set in their beliefs and nothing short of producing a genuine Reaper in the Council chambers would convince them otherwise. In all honesty he had debated for a long time whether or not to report Kane and the other's appearance.

In the end, he knew he needed to. This was not something he could wish away, or hold back from. If anything, it might help sway the Councilors to the verity of his claims. The concept of an invasion originating in dark space seemed relatively simple and believable compared to the idea of time-jumping humans. And this was something he had to bring to the Council; his reinstatement as a Spectre had specifically not included giving the Council updates, but this required some act of introduction. The Council would know in days about the laser technology he had turned over to the humans and turians. The asari and salarians would be quick to demand such technology for themselves. Which made him wonder why Kane had specifically only mentioned those two. They would need to discuss that later.

"Spectre Shepard," Tevos began, inclining her head in welcome. Shepard stiffened to a pose of attention and greeted the Council. Councilors Sparatus and Valern gave him that dismissive look he knew so well. That would change soon enough. "We have gathered together many times at your request. I trust you have reason for such constant attention?"

"Don't tell us you are here to remind us of this fanciful Reaper invasion," Sparatus growled, anger lacing his words.

"Councilors, I have come for a different reason. Reapers aren't even involved," Shepard promised. The Council responded as he thought they would. Sparatus gave a longsuffering huff and crossed his arms. Tevos's eyes went straight back to Kane in anticipation. Valern grimaced at the thought of having to bring something else before his Dalatrass.

"By all means then," Valern said, his tone reminiscent of a man who just ate three sour lemons. Sighing quietly, he gestured for Shepard to go on.

"The man by my side is Sergeant Leon Kane," Shepard began, bracing himself for the response he was about to incur. "He is a human soldier from the fortieth millennium."

Stunned silence greeted his announcement. The Councilors, too shocked by the audacity of his claim, stared at Shepard as if he had gone completely mad. He held their gazes calmly, knowing that any further claims before they could rationalize his statement would send their fingers darting for the panic switches on their consoles.

"Is this your idea of a joke," Councilor Sparatus sputtered at last. He took several deep breaths and thrust an accusing finger at Shepard. "You bring us all out of our work to come before you so you can spout some nonsense like this! Have you finally gone full-on mad?"

"This claim is outrageous! I cannot believe you waste our time with this foolery," Valern yipped.

"We were gracious in returning your status as a Spectre," Councilor Tevos snapped, expression growing sharp and angry. "And this is how you repay us? With this sheer insan-"

Kane's arm shifted as he drew his laspistol. The near-silent whine of the power pack's activation tickled Shepard's hearing before the Cadian pointed his laspistol in the air and fired a single shot. The brilliant flash of scarlet energy bathed the room in a lightning-flash of red before the shot struck the ceiling with a ripping sound. The laser blasted through the tough ceiling and incinerated several cables, sending a cascade of electrical bursts that crackled along the roof and caused the lights to briefly dim. He could see the flickers of terror that stole across the Councilors' faces at the unexpected discharge.

Slipping his laspistol back into its holster, Sergeant Kane cleared his throat and addressed the Council. His words boomed through the room, filling every nook and cranny with the pride and power he drew into his speech.

"My name is Leon Kane. I am a Sergeant in the 414th Kasrkin Company attached to the 8th Cadian Shock Troop Regiment. I come from the year forty thousand three hundred forty, as do two comrades of mine still aboard the Normandy. Our arrival here was no of our own designs, nor do we have any intentions towards this current time we find ourselves in. In our time we were soldiers of mankind, warriors who fought to protect humanity from the scourges of evil that threatened our existence. Finding ourselves here, that mission has not changed. We stand by Shepard in his hunt to stop the Collectors, to destroy the Reapers, and to save this galaxy from your own damn bickering and cowardice.

"If you doubt my words I have but this to say: what fools are you that would let the galaxy burn for the sake of maintaining peace? The threat is real, this war is real, and you are pissing away precious time that could be spent preparing for war."

A great speech, but none of them could understand it. That almost made it more convincing.

Kane gestured for Shepard to translate his words. Shepard did so with little hesitation, continuing even as the Councilors regained their wits and tried to shut him down. Councilor Sparatus had already hit the panic button, and before he finished speaking a squad of eight LOKI mechs had tramped in and formed a ring around them, rifles raised threateningly as they tracked the three figures before the Council. Udina stood there with wide, terrified eyes. He looked from the mechs to Shepard, outrage battling for control across his face.

"You dare to fire a weapon at us," Councilor Sparatus hissed, seething with rage. "Security, drag these men out and lock them up. I swear by the-"

"Hold!" Councilor Tevos held up an imperious hand. The turian and salarian Councilors looked over at her in surprise. The anger had drained from her countenance, replaced by undisguised interest. Her eyes lifted to the hole in the ceiling before returning to Shepard. She pointed at the hole. "You have one chance to explain what we just saw. If your explanation proves unsatisfactory these mechs will remove you by force, strip you of your Spectre rank, and you will be tried for the attempted murder of Council members. Explain, now."

"They have laser weapons," was the first thing that came out of Shepard's mouth. He gestured towards the weapon and Sergeant Kane drew it again. The mechs leaned into their rifles and pistols, processors chirping as they identified the appearance of a weapon. Handing it over carefully, Kane let go and allowed Shepard to hold it up for inspection. That in and of itself was a huge step for the Cadian. Shepard had not thought he would ever turn his weapons over to another person. He must have realized what Shepard's intentions were and trusted him.

"See," Shepard said, ejecting the power pack and holding both the pistol and pack up for the Councilors to inspect. "This weapon is an energy-based firearm. It is only his sidearm, but it can burn through an old krogan's hump in seconds. No reaction from kinetic shielding, rechargeable battery packs, and deadlier than anything we have. No one has the technology for this. No us, not the turians, not the Geth, not even the Collectors. It is from beyond our time and so is Sergeant Kane."

"You will have to give more than a speech to persuade us of that," Councilor Tevos informed him. A hungry gleam settled on her eyes as she studied the weapon. Gesturing for them to not move, she reached down to her own panic button. The second set of alarms ushered in another wave of LOKI mechs which took position in and around the first wave. Two C-Sec colored YMIR heavy mechs tramped in behind the smaller ones. Kane, Shepard noticed, did not appear the slightest bit bothered by the overabundance of weapons pointed their way. A few button presses on her console shut down the IFF targeters on the mechs, rendering them motionless. She gestured to one of the YMIR models. "I want to see it again."

"Councilor!" Valern started forward in protest, but she hushed him with an upraised hand. A withering look silenced the turian Councilor as well. It had always been clear to Shepard who held the reins on the Council. That was why he preferred addressing the asari Councilor over the others.

"I need to see that again before I make a judgment," she said firmly. "Because I don't rightly know what we just saw, and that casts enough doubt in my mind I would seek to pursue the truth. Commander Shepard, if you will, demonstrate this wondrous firepower you claim to possess."

Shepard slapped the power pack back in the laspistol and handed it off to Kane. The Cadian took the weapon, double-checked the power pack, and pointed to the YMIR mech. Councilor Tevos nodded.

"Just don't shoot it in the head," Shepard muttered under his breath. "They explode when you do that."

The man's finger flicked the weapon to maximum power. He lifted the weapon and fired three shots in rapid succession, striking the YMIR in the joint between its main body and right arm. The difference between shooting at the YMIR's front and back was incredible. Each laser round melted fist-sized holes through the mech's hardened cables and plating. He led the rounds up the joint, destroying so much of the machinery that the entire arm creaked and toppled off with a jumble of clanging metal bits. Three evenly placed blast marks on the reinforced hidden door behind the mech showed the penetrative power of the laspistol. One of the rounds had burned all the way through, revealing a pinprick of light from the other side that stabbed into the less bright chamber room.

Deactivating his laspistol, Sergeant Kane calmly slipped it back into its holster for the second time and turned back to the Council. The Councilors had all gone silent, faces tortured with uncertainty as they processed the sight before them. Shepard allowed them a few minutes before speaking.

"As you can see, I am not lying about their weapons. The firepower in this mere pistol just took a heavy mech's arm off in three shots. If you want to argue that it was a stroke of luck, I invite you to some down and examine the damage yourself."

It was a bold choice of words, but not one that Shepard thought unwise. Confidence had always been his strongpoint, the one thing that kept the Council interested enough to not dismiss him out of turn. He knew exactly how much pressure to exert, how much humility to show. Now was the time to press his point.

"I know that you are full of doubts, as I was myself at first. But I can tell you right now that he and his companions are indeed from the future, and they have volunteered to help us. In addition, as a sign of faith, he has come forward and turned over a host of information taken from his personal datapad. As soon as the data is collated and translated I will send you copies."

"If you are from the future…" Sparatus said, mulling over each word. "What can you tell us of the Reapers? Surely you have some proof of their existence or some history of what happened."

Kane looked to Shepard and shook his head. "If humanity encountered Reapers, that was over thirty thousand years ago from my time. Tell them I can offer nothing in that regard. This is not the time or place to have an in-depth discussion on the matter."

Shepard dutifully informed them that Kane had nothing to say at the time. That brought a snort of derision from the turian, but to Shepard's surprise the salarian stepped up to the bat in his defense.

"Time travel is a theoretical possibility," he said. "Relativistic physics concedes the conceptual idea of transferring a person or object across time and space. The effects would be unknown, whether paradoxes would be created or branching timelines would occur. Knowledge of Reapers a moot point. Whether this Sergeant Kane has knowledge or not, it would give no proof to our reality and the situation we face here. Commander Shepard, have you anything else to say in the matter?"

"Only to inform you that, one way or another, certain things are going to be revealed." Shepard gestured towards the pistol on Kane's hip. "People are going to find out about this technology. As long as he's on my team it will keep showing up and eventually start making news. And when it does I thought you should be prepared. As I said before, I am not working for Cerberus. I am working for the galactic community as a whole. I hope this will reinforce that message."

He intentionally left out the fact that he had already given the schematics over. They would know soon enough and they would appreciate his restraint in releasing such technology to the races that guarded Council space. This way at least they had an idea of what to expect once they started hearing the rumors.

"We thank you for bringing it to our attention," Councilor Tevos cut in, stalling her companions. "Our schedules are full at the moment and we can not afford to give you more of our time. But I promise we will consider what you have told us and we will get back in touch with you when we have processed this… news."

She punched in another command and the mechs tramped back into their secure holding cells. Her dismissive wave gave the order for them to leave. Shepard turned to leave, but Kane remained put. The Cadian glared up at the turian Councilor, his expression ranging somewhere between murder and hatred. The turian noticed it, and stared back with an uncertain grimace.

"What is his problem," Councilor Sparatus demanded.

"There is no problem," Shepard promised. He patted Kane's shoulder and the man shook himself as if waking from a dream. Spinning on his heel, he stormed out of the room. Shepard understood where his thoughts lay. The ambassador of the race that occupied his home world. It must have taken him some restraint to not go into a rage at the sight.

Walking quickly lest anything go wrong, he chased Kane out of the room and waited until the doors shut. Councilor Udina let out a long-held breath. The horror of what had occurred in that chamber still echoed on his face.

"Shepard! What were you thinking, firing a sidearm at the Council? Were you trying to get us killed?"

"I fired," Kane growled. They had patched Udina and Anderson's micro-translators to understand Kane's speech. The man's barking voice still made the Councilor shrink back. "It shut them up and let Shepard go through with his point. I didn't see you stepping forward to help."

"Well," Udina began, drawing his shoulders up with an appropriate amount of bluster. "That is because I have more important things to worr-"

"More important than a galaxy-destroying invasion?" Kane snorted and turned away. He called out to Shepard as he headed for the taxi that would take them back to the human embassy. "Real class act you've got here, Shepard. With leaders like him it's no wonder this era of man is beholden to xenos."

"Is that how you address your superiors?" Udina bristled in outrage and chased after Kane. Before Shepard could stop him, Udina grabbed the taller man by the arm and tried to jerk him around. What he got instead was the barrel of Kane's laspistol shoved against his jaw. The whine of the weapon's activation could be heard by all three. Kane's eyes fairly glowed with barely-held rage.

"Where I come from," he spat, grinding his words between clenched teeth, "when a superior proves to be a coward or treacherous git, we shoot the fracker in the head and get a new superior. Want me to demonstrate?"

"Easy, Kane." Shepard pushed his laspistol from under the Councilor's jaw. He maintained just enough reproach in his voice to warn Kane from continuing the discussion. Udina was a precarious ally at best. He hadn't turned on them yet, but there was always that possibility. For now he preferred to remain in Udina's graces, fickle as they were.

A thick rumble built in the Cadian's chest but he held back from speaking. Ripping his hand free of Udina's grip, he climbed into the taxi and motioned for Shepard to join him. When Udina approached it he shook his head. It was better for all of them that Udina gave Kane some space.

"Are we done here, Shepard?"

"Yeah." Shepard shot Udina a warning look. Not a good idea, he mouthed. The Councilor wisely took his advice and stood aside to wait for the next taxi. Sliding into his chair, he punched in their destination and leaned back in his seat. A deep sigh eased out of his lungs. Head aching, he rubbed his temples and shot Kane a sidelong glance. "That could have gone better, but I appreciate you stepping in."

"They struck me as the kind of leaders that were too many years out of touch with the masses. I thought that simple demonstration would cut through hours of talking." He shrugged, neither pleased nor embarrassed by his actions. "Turns out I was about right."

"Yes, but that could have gone very badly."

"But it didn't." He gave Shepard a blank look. "Next time I will give you a warning, or at least a chance to come up with a better idea."

"I appreciate it."

They settled back in their seats as the taxi flew them back to Zakera Ward. The trip took half an hour, plenty of time to cool their heels and plan their next steps. While they were in the Council meeting Miranda had sent in confirmation that they had found their contact and would be several more hours before being available to return to the Normandy. That meant they had time to kill, and Shepard could only wonder at how they would spend that time. Maybe now would be a good opportunity to introduce Kane to real food. Mess Sergeant Gardner did a solid job preparing their meals, but Kane would appreciate a restaurant meal.

"Shepard, I have a question."

He looked over at the Cadian. "What is it?"

"Something's been bothering me about this time. I didn't have time to consider it much until the past day or so, but in light of the Council's questions I think it is important to set out on the table, so to speak." He pulled his dataslate out of its pocket and searched for something. When he found it he passed the dataslate over to Shepard, who took it and studied the image on the screen.

His first thought was that the woman was more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen. It was a profile picture, showing her shoulders and head only, but even so he knew without a doubt that the woman before him was stunning. Paper-white unblemished skin glowed against the backdrop of mournful hazel eyes. A green tattoo burst across her cheek in an exotic star-shaped pattern. Her face was delicate, strong, powerful, and reserved all at the same time. Inhumanly long ears jutted like spear points from under a cascading river of auburn tresses. Whoever this was, she wasn't human. But she was beautiful, and he felt a pang in his chest. The woman seemed to radiate both great sorrow and great strength.

"That is an Eldar," Kane grunted, unaffected by the beauty of the picture. "I take it you don't recognize them."

"Never seen anything like it," he admitted. When Kane asked he handed the dataslate back. A few minutes of fiddling later he was handed another picture, this time of a massive slobbering greenish-yellow monster with massive tusks and squinty red eyes. It looked hideous and mean. Slobber oozed from the corners of its mouth as it bellowed soundlessly into the viewer's face.

"Ork."

The process repeated as Kane showed him other races. Hrud, Tau, Squats, Ogryn, Cythor Fiends, Galg, Jokaero. Shepard recognized none of them, and with each dismissal of a race Kane's face grew more grim.

"What are you thinking," he asked when the Cadian stopped handing over the dataslate.

"That I may have been hasty in assuming our timelines match." Kane hocked a wad of spit over the side. He stared after it for a few seconds before returning his attention to Shepard. "It was a stupid assumption to make, and one that throws the reality of our situation into a new light."

"You are thinking we may not be so separated?"

"How long has mankind been sentient," Kane asked him.

"Our first written records are dated to five thousand years ago, give or take."

"Five thousand years…" Kane frowned. "But I thought you said the year was 2185?"

"Long story," Shepard assured the man. "Our 'zero' year is tied to a date that used to have religious significance. Not so much now, but we kept it as a starting point."

"What is the galactic calendar date then?"

"2685. That is when the Council was formed."

The Cadian fell silent, lost in his own thoughts. Shepard gave him time, certain that he knew what the man was thinking. He was also certain he had no words of wisdom to aid the man's questions.

"As far as I see," Kane muttered. "There are two options here. Either this is some long past age of man or this is truly in the future of my time. I do not know which way to consider it, or if it even matters. What troubles me about this is that you do not recognize the Eldar. Even humanist historians admit that the Eldar dominated the galaxy during the first age of human ascendancy. You should know all about them. They should be everywhere."

Glancing over at Shepard, Kane shook his head. "I don't know what to make of this. If this is the past, the Eldar should be here. As should the Orks. And dozens of other races that I have not found any reference to on your Extranet."

"So you are thinking this may be a future time?"

"Possibly. If so, then I do not know what to think. Did mankind win?" He gestured around. "I have seen no evidence of the Warp. Perhaps the God-Emperor finally destroyed it. And along with it, every xenos race I have ever known. And then others came forward to take their place. That bothers me as well. I had never heard of any of these races we see here. Granted, I am not a xenos scholar, but still I would have thought to have some awareness of this many species. So I cannot account for a future time either."

"There is a third option," Shepard ventured. Kane grimaced at the thought.

"You believe we could be from a different universe?"

"You said the Warp creates rifts in reality? Well, maybe it did just that. Have you heard the argument for the multiverse?"

"No, but I believe I can glean the concept." The Cadian's face soured noticeably. "You think my reality is different from your own?"

"Who knows?" Shepard shrugged. "But it fits the questions. We're both human but we have different neighbors."

"Just because an answer fits doesn't mean it is correct." The Cadian's voice drained away and he growled in frustration. "Why couldn't we have been sent here with a Mechanicus adept, or an astropath? They would have answers."

"I believe it is sufficient, for the time being, to just let things be as they are," Shepard offered. "We can worry about the rest of it later."

A tall and stately asari woman greeted them as they dismounted the hover car. Kane bristled at the imperious way she greeted Commander Shepard.

"Commander Shepard. Councilor Tevos sends her regards. She awaits you in her office. Return to your taxi and join her there."

"Does the Councilor say why she wants to see me," Shepard asked, taking the xenos woman's arrogance in stride. She did not answer immediately, but gestured vaguely in Kane's direction. That was all Shepard needed to know. He shook his head and walked past the startled xenos. "Please inform Councilor Tevos that I am unavailable to meet. I am sure she will understand how busy the both of us are."

"But…" the xenos woman stumbled over her words in her confusion. Being dismissed so easily must have never happened to her before. Kane enjoyed how badly it shocked her. "The Councilor demands your presence."

"I thought you said she sent her regards," Shepard shot back. "And I am sending her mine. Tell her I understand but am not available."

"Commander!"

Shepard ignored her. Heading into the Ward, he led Kane in the direction of stairs to the twenty-eighth level. The Citadel had smaller crowds than Omega, and cleaner ones too. Whereas Omega was a cesspit with dark shadows and thunderous noise, the Zakera Ward had clean architecture, open spaces, and most importantly, plenty of humans about. Kane liked it better than Omega, but it still struck him as unnatural. He disliked the overabundance of xenos.

"That was not very diplomatic of you," Kane said as they climbed the stairs. Shepard chuckled.

"Says the man who drew his pistol in front of the Council."

"I am a soldier. That's how I do politics. Thought you'd be more tactful and appeasing."

"I'm just as much a soldier as you are," Shepard replied. "Don't forget that. Before this whole Spectre thing happened I was a groundpounder."

"I know." He tapped the butt of his laspistol in deference. "I saw you rip through those mercenaries on Omega. Pretty solid shooting. Granted, you people rely too much on your shields. As soon as those are gone you fall like flies. And most of the idiots we fought would stand there shooting even as their shields failed. Those give you a sense of invulnerability, don't they?"

"None of them expected your shooting to tear straight through their shields," Shepard reminded him. "You threw them all for a loop."

"I'm not referring to how they lined up like sticks for my lasgun," Kane assured him. "Even when you were shooting at them, they'd stand there and take it. Didn't seem to understand the concept of cover."

"Different times."

The explanation was as simple and to the point as Shepard could likely provide. Settling with that, Kane let his mind wander to the question he asked himself many times. If a single Imperial cruiser and a single Imperial transport ship came to this time, how long would it take them to annihilate all resistance? He wished he knew why he kept asking himself that? This wasn't some foreign battlefield; his concerns should rest with the materials they had, not with wishing for more impossibilities. One was enough for his lifetime.

The reached the entrance of a place called the Dark Star Lounge. Shepard greeted a surly krogan outside with the calm surety of a lieutenant greeting a fellow officer. The xenos nodded and waved them through. Bouncer. The wide doorway slid outwards into the walls and they proceeded inside. The Dark Star Lounge teemed with life. Alcoves filled with tables and backed by soft blue lights lined the left. A cleared space underneath flashing lights to the right indicated a place where humans and xenos danced to the beat of exotic thumping tunes. A narrow bar dominated the center of the venue. He spotted Miranda and Jacob sitting at a table halfway down the left side; Miranda had the seat that gave her a clear view of the entrance. A third figure sat between them, hands clasped nervously over the table.

Expecting Shepard to head that way, Kane started in their direction. Then Miranda glanced his way and gave a subtle shake of her head. Surprised, he looked back to see Shepard heading in a different direction, past the dance floor and towards the rear of the facility. He started that way, but then a dainty hand crept up his arm and came to rest on his shoulder. His gut reaction was to slap the hand away and draw his laspistol, but he knew that would be a bad decision. Due to Shepard's influence they were allowed to openly carry, but that did not mean others would take well to a drawn weapon. He turned his head instead and found the beaming faces of Crewmen Patel, Goldstein, Rolston and Hawthorne.

"Thought that was you coming in," Patel giggled. She leaned lightly against his side, a glassy look in her eyes. The others shared that look, more or less. All drunk to some degree. It figured that the first thing they did on shore leave was to get wasted. Some traditions never changed.

"Of course it was him," Hawthorne said. He gave Kane a too-friendly slap on the other shoulder. "Sar'nt Kane is a big boy, bigger than any I've ever seen. You'd have to be blind t'mistake him for someone else. C'mon, we've got a table over there. Why don't you join us, Sar'nt?"

The crewmembers tugged at his arms, guiding him over to their booth. Kane cast a desperate look around for Shepard, but the Commander had disappeared. There went his options. Not knowing the layout of the station and not being able to communicate made getting away a bad idea. The crew all seemed excited to talk to him as well, which honestly struck him as surprising. He had largely ignored the basic crew members of the Normandy. On Imperial ships, the regular crew were little more than vermin that pattered about their stations. It took time to adjust out of that mindset. On a ship as small as the Normandy, every life mattered. Every crewmember had personality, desires, thoughts, life. Their mindsets were so different from that of the Imperial Navy crewmen.

Of course, the biggest surprise of it all for Kane was that Shepard allowed almost all of his crew to leave his ship at one time and without any supervision to speak of. It spoke volumes about the relationship between captain and crew in this age. Almost like they were members of the same platoon. The gap between their ranks did not draw as deep here. The respect clearly remained, but otherwise the relationship seemed more… personable.

"What are you ordering," Patel asked, sliding up against him as the five humans piled into the booth. She poked at his chest armor in admiration. "That's some heavy, hic, armor you've got. I bet it weighs a ton!"

Crewman Rolston tapped a console on the center of the table and a holographic projection of the menu sprang out. It was written in some xenos language, so it took him a minute before his implant adjusted and he could read it. The names meant nothing to him anyways. The only identifiers that made sense were the ones that read Alcohol, Liquor, Gel, Alcohol-Free. Beyond that he would be guessing.

"What's your poison, Sar'nt?"

"Pick one," he replied, knowing full well the danger of issuing such a challenge. The crewmembers exchanged furtive glances, smiles lighting up their faces. They introduced themselves one at a time, insisting he use their first names. Vadim Rolston put in an order, the others voicing their own choices. They ordered him something called ryncol. Judging by the expectant grin Sarah Patel gave him, it would be powerful. She wanted to see him drunk. He did not know whether to be appreciative or irritated. Before he could put time into that debate the others launched a barrage of questions at him. They were mostly harmless things, though ones he found he couldn't answer.

What do you do in your spare time? How do Imperial soldiers spend their shore leave? What is your favorite music? Food? Been to any cool places? What's the craziest thing you've ever done? What were humans like in your time? What kind of art do you have, sports do you play?

They asked him so many questions, and he had no idea what the answers were. He knew almost nothing about life in the Imperium save for the military. And even then, he only knew snippets about non-Cadian forces. His lack of answers did not lessen their interest, however. After having several negative replies they focused on the things he did know. That made him uneasy; he found himself having to censor what he said. As curious as they were, he knew they wanted to hear good things. There were so few of those in the Imperial Guard.

A waiter swung by the table and deposited their drinks. That bought him a brief lull in the conversation. Taking the glass they identified as his own, Kane sniffed it carefully. It had all the aromatic charm of promethium. Probably not the worst thing he had drunk. Taking a short breath, he threw his head back and downed the entire glass in one long chug. The liquid melted his throat, filling his belly with an inferno, strumming the muscles in his gut to throw the drink back out onto the table. He choked it down, his next gasp of air strained. He spent one long second debating whether or not that had been a stupid decision. Maybe sipping it would have been better, his churning stomach hinted.

The others watched him with awe written on their faces.

"Damn, never thought I'd see a human take one of those without hurling." Thomas Hawthorne muttered. He stroked his chin and gave Kane a looked that bordered on hero worship. "Even the Commander can't hold one of those down."

"When you've been in as many campaigns as I've been in," Kane started. He paused and kept his mouth closed to silence the burp that rose in his chest. "It's strong, but I've had stronger. One time we moonshined vod out of a used prom drum. That shit put an Ogryn on its ass."

"Your buddies drink that too?"

"Brunson and Blake? No idea. I only met them a few hours before we came here."

"What can you tell us about your female companion," Jenny Goldstein interjected. She leaned back and threw her arm around Hawthorne with a not-so-subtle leer at the man. "Thomas here thinks she's a beauty."

"Do not," the man in question insisted. His cheeks flushed darkly and he shot Kane a pleading look. "Honest, I just said I thought she was a deadringer for Officer Lawson."

"Who is sitting just a few booths that way," Kane noted, tipping his head in the right direction. That set off a round of giggling from the drunk crewmembers.

"Hey!" Sarah Patel bumped her shoulder into Kane's. "We aren't talking about her. We're talking about the chick in the medbay."

"That chick is an Imperial Commissar," Kane said. They all stared at him blankly. The importance of the title went right over their heads. After a moment Kane sighed. He could already sense the touch of giddiness in his head as the effects of ryncol spread through his veins. A pleasant but powerful creeping sensation along the hair of his limbs, a cold numbness in his belly. The mental restraints he had built for himself tugged for freedom. Thankfully he knew how to handle his liquor.

"Frack it," he said, breaking any tension that might have arisen from his previous comment. He could afford to let loose a little. He had to at some point or he would just blow up. "So let's talk about Commissar Blake. What do you want to know?"

"Where's she from?"

"Cadia, same as me."

"How old is she?" Thomas's question drew scandalized looks from the women at the booth. He flinched when Jenny scowled at him. "I just meant, she seems young."

"Younger'n you, that's for sure," Sarah laughed. She rested her head on Kane's shoulder, something he found he was not quite comfortable with. He could enjoy the company, but he had to make sure he didn't get drunk and do something stupid. Throne knew when he finally passed his limit, shit hit the fan in a major way.

"Well, I don't know exactly how old she is," Kane admitted. "Probably not much older than seventeen."

"That young?" Jenny gasped in horror. "That's so young! How did she get mixed up in that battle of yours?"

"Her unit was stationed on the line," Kane answered simply. He sensed that going into the details of the battle would quickly drain their interest and ruin the mood, so he steered the conversation another way. "Here's a question for you four. What happens to your orphans?"

"Orphans?" They exchanged bewildered glances. "Uh, orphan stuff, I guess. Go to foster homes, get raised in orphanages. Stuff like that."

"Where we're from," Kane said, drawing their attention in, "orphans of a certain class and above go to the Schola Progenium. We are raised by the Ecclesiarchy until graduation."

"Ecclesiarchy?" Vadim's brows furrowed. "Do you mean the church?"

"That is a base word for it, yes."

"Your church must be pretty important," Jenny mumbled. "What's it like?"

"Faith in the God-Emperor is the foundation of the Imperium," Kane answered. The tingle of disappointment that accompanied their confused looks did not bother him like it would have a few days ago. He searched his mind for a way to describe it to the crew, but before he had a chance Shepard appeared at the entrance to their little alcove. The crew all welcomed him warmly, scuttling about to make a space for the Commander, but Shepard waved their offers away and addressed Kane.

"We need to go, now."

The urgency in his tone cut through the buzzed heads of the crew and they fell silent. Sarah Patel scrambled out of the booth to give Kane an exit. A slight wistful look chased him out, but she did not argue. Everyone on the ship understood that when Shepard thought something was important, it damn well was.

"Just me," Kane asked. If so, then Shepard was expecting trouble. He loosened the strap on his hip holster.

"Yes. Crew, your curfew stands." Shepard flashed them a strained smile. He hid the worry in his eyes well enough that their alcohol-impaired minds missed it. "Enjoy the downtime."

Together the two men hurried out of the venue. Miranda and Jacob met them at the exit. Their faces were all-business, and they gave Kane a strange look as he passed them.

"What's the problem?"

"Your buddy woke up," Shepard answered. He led them to the nearest taxi terminal and punched the button to summon the next automated taxi. "And she panicked, just like you said she would. Joker radioed in that she's holding Doctor Chakwas and Garrus hostage. She keeps demanding to speak to the man in charge."

"Yes, that would be her intention," Kane agreed. They all piled into the taxi as it pulled up alongside the terminal. Shepard flashed something on his omnitool and something behind the controls clicked loudly. He took the steering piece in his hands and sent the taxi rocketing off in a way that did not strike Kane as automated.

"I'm flying us directly there," Shepard explained. "It will be faster that way."

"Good thinking." Kane frowned as he considered something. They would have to be careful around Commissar Blake. A single misstep could cause disaster. And she would be looking for a friendly face. That gave him an idea. "Is Trooper Brunson still on the Normandy?"

"Yes."

"Can you patch me in to talk to him?"

"Use my omnitool," Miranda offered from the back seats. She held it forward for Kane.

He hesitated for a moment, resisting the urge to grab her arm and hold it steady. Then he leaned forward, feeling foolish, and spoke into the holographic device on her arm.

"Normandy, this is Kane. Who is receiving?"

"I am here, Sergeant Kane," came the soothing voice of the ship's AI. "Your companion has awoken. I have informed Comman-"

"He's right here," Kane said, cutting the AI off. "Listen, I need you to put me in contact with Trooper Brunson, now."

"Connecting."

The line remained silent for several seconds before the young soldier's voice came onto the channel.

"Trooper Brunson here, Sergeant."

"Trooper, I need you to go to our quarters and fetch my helmet, lasgun, and the Commissar's rosarius. Bring them up to the CIC; we'll meet you there and I'll kit up before going to see talk her down. Have you put eyes on the medbay?"

"Not yet. I thought it best to wait for you. But it sounds pretty crazy over there. Security's staying put on the far side of the mess hall and they're looking real anxious, Sergeant. She's angry."

"As she should be," Kane muttered. He ignored the scandalized looks the others gave him. "Waking up on a strange ship with strange xenos will do that. I want you in full kit too when we go down to talk to her. It will help calm her to see familiar uniforms. Understood?"

"Understood, Sergeant. Why the weapons?"

"Because it will let her know we are not prisoners. I expect you to meet us at the airlock. Sergeant Kane out."

He patted Miranda's hand to let her know he had finished.

"Anything we need to know about Miss Blake before we talk to her?"

"That she is going to be very confused. I can tell you right now, she is not going to take any of this as smoothly as we did. You might want to let me do some of the talking at first. She may not answer to me, but she'll respect me. I might be able to persuade her to calm down enough that you can step in and explain things. With luck, that's all it will take."

"And if it isn't enough?"

Kane grimaced. "Shoot her in the knee? Something non-lethal that will restrain her."

"Are you serious?"

"If you have a grox is charging at you and you don't want to kill it, do you let it hit you or do you slow it down?"

"Slow it down," Shepard agreed.

"That's how you have to approach Madam Commissar Blake, Shepard."